le demoiselle
had been brought up indifferently indeed. Dark, brown-eyed,
black-haired, she had given promise of beauty to come. Left to her own
devices she had acquired accomplishments most unusual in that day and
by no means feminine. She could ride, shoot, swim, run, fence, much
better than she could dance the old courtly minuet, or the new and
popular waltz, just beginning to make its appearance. A love of
reading and an ancient library in which she had a free range had
initiated her into many things which the well-brought-up French girl
was not supposed to know, and which, indeed, many of them went to their
graves without ever finding out. The Count had a well-stored mind, and
on occasion he gave the child the benefit of it, while leaving her
mainly to her own devices.

Few of the ancient nobility had come back to the neighborhood. Their
original holdings had been portioned out among the new creations of the
Imperial Wizard, and with them the Count held little intercourse.
Laure d'Aumenier had not reached the marriageable age, else some of the
newly made gentry would undoubtedly have paid court to her. She found
companions among the retainers of her father's estate. The devotion of
some of them had survived the passionate hatreds of the revolution and,
failing the Marquis, who was the head of the house, they loyally served
his brother, and with pride and admiration gave something like feudal
worship and devotion to the little lady.

The Marquis, an old man now, had never forgiven his brother, the Count,
for his compromise with principle and for his recognition of the
"usurper," as he was pleased to characterize Napoleon. He had refused
even to accept that portion of the greatly diminished revenue of the
estate which the younger brother had regularly remitted to the Marquis'
bankers in London. The whole amount lay there untouched and
accumulating, although, as were many other emigres, the Marquis
frequently was hard pressed for the bare necessities of life. With
every year, as Bonaparte--for that was the only name by which he
thought of him--seemed to be more and more thoroughly established on
the throne, the resentment of the Marquis had grown. Latterly he had
refused to hold any communication with his brother.

The year before the Battle of the Nations, or just before Napoleon set
forth on his ill-fated Russian adventure, Count Robert d'Aumenier died.
With an idea of amendment, which showed how his